“I didn’t know,” I said.

The words felt small and dry in my throat.

“I thought you took forty-one thousand dollars from the lake sale and walked off.”

“I never took one dime from you,” she said.

“I know that now,” I said.

“I found the bank transfer requests in her desk just this morning.”

A blue jay squawked in the branches of the oak overhead.

“You missed five months, Garrett,” she said, looking me straight in the eye for the first time.